Despite All My Rage
by fluffy2001
Summary: Now Complete. Chapter 5. Unless Chase found a way to deal with his inner rage, the consequences would be dire. Ch. 1 songfic, the rest story. One keyword, Taekwondo.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: This is my first songfic. Thanks to darkangelgirl262 for making the suggestion that I do one. The idea for this just came out of nowhere. This is easily the most unique Chase fic I have done yet. Lots of anger and fury here. The premise here is that no one can repress anger and not have a way to release it. **

**Takes place after 'The Mistake' **

**Lyrics to "Bullet on Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins (a very angry/angsty song for anyone who hasn't heard it). Lyrics are in paranthesis.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Chase (although he might be a more interesting character if I did :) ) but I'll take credit for the master. **

**---------------------------**

(The world is a vampire, sent to drain

Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames)

He could feel it all building up from within. His normally strong ability to suppress had deteriorated. The last week was particularly trying, and now he had the next week ahead to face his troubles alone. He couldn't go on without expelling the demons. He had to confront the pain. Rage was reserved for someone who was always calm and didn't anger easily.

The smell of the plastic mat below him drifted up to his nose triggering sensations of anxiety and anticipation as he eagerly waited for the Kyorugi to begin. Chase had his time of meditation before this moment, now this instant meant release. The master knew to give him a brief interval for preparation first; the chance to focus and channel the deep sense of spirituality that was required to properly unload the ire.

(And what do I get, for my pain?  
Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game)

As he stared down his opponent from the opposite side of the room the anger instantly began to well up within. Chase slightly adjusted the protective head gear that sat on his head. Despite his skill level he always wore protection for the head, trunk, and groin area. As a doctor he knew that even the most innocent of slips could cause the most harm. The full-contact variant of sparring they performed still had its rules. No knock outs or serious harm and it usually ended when one of them directly submitted from physical exhaustion.

Chase bowed in unison to the master and moved into the ready stance. As expected, the master started with the basic front kick. Chase countered with one of his own. Usually the master struck first, but Chase's time on defense was frequently short. The master spun around and offered a side kick that Chase defended using the swift sweeping movement of a middle block.

(Even though I know - I suppose I'll show  
All my cool and cold - like old job)

As he defended himself with all the usual blocks and spins, his thoughts now meandered to the week that had just past. _More humiliation, more taunting, more lies, more death. _He just took it like he always did. _Good boy Robert, turn the other cheek. Make your mother proud. _Since he was a young child the deadly sin of ira had been pushed into his psyche. Do not give into anger. Inappropriate feelings of hatred, wishing to do evil to others, it was all wrong. Never mind that anger is a natural reaction to being threatened. Never mind that the body actually increases cortisol and epinephrine thus producing heightened stress levels. Hide it all inside. God commands it.

Each day at the hospital he was selling his soul. What little identity he had drifted farther and farther away with each moment of disrespect and loss. All the good he did was just not enough. Death mocked him too much. He accepted all that was handed to him and moved on. Yet he didn't really move on. He just tucked it away for the right moment.

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

The anger inside rose higher. _Hold onto just a little longer. It isn't time yet. _His wandering thoughts though proved to betray him as he missed a block on the master's back sidekick and found himself face down on the mat. Chase slowly got up with the right side of his head throbbing and glared at his challenger with cold eyes that echoed the now burning full rage from within. The master knew what he had to do to get him started.

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

The breakdown forced him into it. Chase had been doing Taekwondo since he was 17 and was skilled enough to heavily spar with a master. He remembered with vivid detail when the psychologist told him that unless he found a way to deal with that inner rage the consequences would be dire. At the time Chase thought the man was a quack. After taking up a martial art that promoted physical and mental well being, character development, and building of self-confidence, he sorely admitted the man was right.

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

Now it was time to let go. The offensive could begin. Chase went into a blatant attack of open handed punches and spin kicks. Time began to stand still as the adrenaline flowed throughout his body. Now he was no longer fighting just a man. He was fighting his frustration. Every punch and kick channeled all that deep hatred and resentment. He could vent now in his mind while using the martial arts as the physical release. His first mental target was always the same. Foreman.

(Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved  
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

_What have I done to earn such disrespect? I never once attacked you, or insulted you, and did anything to hurt your feelings. Where do you get off assuming my need for privacy to be laziness and not caring about anybody? Why do you think you are better and smarter than me? You had it better growing up than I did you ungrateful bastard. Don't ever think I had a good life and stop calling me rich! Why doesn't House give you the grief I get? You deserve it way more._

Time for a brief rest. The second round would begin in 30 seconds. That gave Chase time to come back to his normal state of mind and reflect. Such mental discipline was usually a requirement of the sport. Still, the anger boiled from within. The break was much like the eye of a storm where there was a brief moment of serenity in between the vast wrath of the monster. His emotions always made sense to him since the person with the long fuse usually had a huge bunch of dynamite at the end. He took two intense deep breaths of calm before it was time to resume.

(Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal  
But can you fake it, for just one more show?)

Chase now took a walking stance and waited for the next move. The master didn't waste anytime as he spun around and delivered the roundhouse kick. He made contact with Chase's left shoulder knocking him slightly backward. The blow was enough for his rage to quickly return thus throwing him into another explosive state. Chase furiously delivered a series of combination kicks and hand strikes that were constantly deflected by blocks from the master.

His thoughts now turned to betrayal. He didn't mind the physical blows inflicted on him constantly, but the emotional ones were more traumatic than he could ever admit. His body automatically kept going as his mind now focused on the pain from Cameron.

(And what do you want? I want to change  
And what have you got, when you feel the same?)

_What did I do to make you think I was devoid of feelings? All I ever did was be nice to you. How could just walk all over me with your emotional blackmail and treat me like crap in the process? We made one mistake and now I have to pay for it? Where is your price? You wouldn't let me say no, but then you blame me in the end. We were two adults. You need to start acting like one. _

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

Now the rage was consuming him to the point that he could barely focus. Everything surrounding around him was now incoherent and he could only recognize the surfaced anger. His physical strength seemed almost superhuman as he violently maneuvered his way around the entire dojang.

The master never stopped their sessions for point scoring or penalties. Only the necessary breaks. They both knew their sessions were purely for release. That was likely why Chase never tried to take the black belt exam. He could have easily passed. Achievement in the sport though was not what he needed.

The end of round two came upon him. Chase had 30 seconds to regain focus, but this time he couldn't concentrate. He was always beyond hope of accomplishing mental discipline by this point. His mind was too cluttered and his surfaced emotion too raw. As the break ended he immediately went into a fighting stance with his knees bent and hands up. His pupils were now fully dilated from the fury.

(Tell me I'm the only one  
Tell me there's no other one  
Jesus was the only son, yeah.  
Tell me I'm the chosen one  
Jesus was the only son for you)

He didn't run away from the pain that so consumed his life once he stepped into this room. He welcomed pain as this was his church. This was the only place and time where he felt in touch with his true self. He even allowed himself to be angry at God during these moments. Anger at God was better than no acknowledgement at all. Here he could lash out with all his wrath and only God would know he was the recipient.

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage  
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

Chase wasn't there to defend anymore. His only motive was attack. His punches and kicks were now delivered at a dizzying speed. He let out a loud yell and delivered more blows including the palchu where he jumped into the air, performed a 360 spin and kicked the master squarely in the mid-section before landing. The master quickly got up off of the mat and they furiously exchanged one set after another of combination kicks, punches, and blocks all designed to thwart the other.

(And someone will say what is lost can never be saved)

At this point Chase didn't consciously know what he was doing. All his actions came from pure instinct. His sin of ira was now unleashed and he could no longer avoid the intense rage that was meant just for him. All Chase's thoughts now became of only one person. The one he always reserved for when the rage was at its peak.

(Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage)

_You miserable son of a bitch. All I ever did was be the best doctor I could be. I save lives, I give you right answers, I perform all your dirty work, yet all I get is ridicule and humiliation. You don't give Foreman and Cameron anywhere near as much grief as I get. You have no right to treat me like that you bastard. I'm a human being just like anyone else. I am smart and would like to hear it just once. Here's a punch for your demoralizing words. Take this kick you jerk for your nosiness into my private life. Take this all out vehemence you horrible asshole for making me completely miserable. _

(Despite all my rage am I still just a rat in a-  
Despite all my rage am I still just a rat in a-)

He had more today for House than normal. He was physically tired but the adrenaline was still too high as he kept pushing forward. The recent events triggered even more repressed anger and despair.

_How could you not tell me? Were you afraid that your fellow was too weak to handle the truth? No, you just wanted to see the moment when everything fell apart for me. You wanted to see the anguish and the torture for your own personal amusement. You are a sick bastard. I can't wait for you to see what it is like when both your parents are dead._

(Despite all my rage am I still just a rat in a cage)

Today the master let Chase keep going much longer than usual. He sensed that the fury wasn't quite expelled yet. There was something extra this time that needed to be exercised. He continued to maneuver and throw blocks letting his student expel the aggravation. He knew defense at this point was the only course.

(Tell me I'm the only one  
Tell me there's no other one  
Jesus was the only son for you)

_I hate you for not telling me. I hate you for hanging me out to dry like that. I always defended you despite the fact you were the crappiest father in the world. I was the good Catholic that honored my mother and father despite the fact that you two messed me up. Now you really made things bad. I never thought you would sink to such lows. It was because of you a woman died. It was because I you I missed something because I cared. Damn you for making me care! You never did. _

Chase abruptly stopped. No, it was his own fault she was dead. The master went for the final blow when Chase's knees buckled and he sank to the ground breathing heavily. He held up his hand in defeat. The master paused for a minute to see if his young student was okay. Chase looked up and the master smiled. The wild gaze was gone and they had yet another successful session. He reached out his hand and helped pull Chase up off the mat. "Same time next week Robert?"

Chase nodded, still trying to catch his breath. The rage had all but disappeared and he was back normal pain of reality that so haunted his days.

(And I still believe that I cannot be saved

And I still believe that I cannot be saved

And I still believe that I cannot be saved

And I still believe that I cannot be saved)

**a/n: Like it? I'll admit feedback would be valuable here since this was an entirely new experiment for me. I take constructive criticism very well. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: After seeing Chase's furious state at the end of Finding Judas, I bounced around the idea of what happened if he had to go burn off the rage in the Taekwando scenario again. I came up with a strange idea involving Wilson and this time not showing the scene through songfic. Hopefully it works for a chapter two on this one, because it didn't fit on its own. **

Wilson's mind weighed heavy by the time he had finished with Tritter. The thoughts and feelings just tumbling inside would be hard for any person to sort out clearly. He felt like his act was correct yet demoralizing, just yet unfair, right yet so very wrong. In other words, he had no reason to believe he wasn't doing the right thing, but he wasn't sure he was.

That's why he was surprised as he was pulling out of the parking garage that his thoughts were actually dominated by Chase instead of House. In the end maybe Chase was the ultimate catalyst for his betrayal? The conversation in the lounge was still very fresh in his mind. It wasn't the words that bothered him. It was the fiery look masking the young doctor's eyes; the bitter edge that laced his disgruntled words; the way he made that sandwich. Each hard and sharp stroke of the knife from his shaking hand indicated he was using everything he had to quell the intense burning within. His actions could be described from a clinical view as borderline passive-aggressive. He had never seen Chase that close to the edge before and he had seen House do some really rotten things to him without even a remote reaction. Wilson was actually concerned that holding in all that rage would result in an explosion that would lead to him hurting others or himself.

Strangely enough, Wilson broke out of his thought when he saw Chase walking along the sidewalk. The aggressive and quick strides in his step indicated that he was still steaming and his eyes were stubbornly fixed forward as if he were on a single focused mission. Wilson had to admit curiosity over what was running through the blond doctor's mind. He was going to stop and offer him a ride, but just as he resolved to do so Chase turned and entered a building.

Wilson pulled over and parked his vehicle. He sat for a few seconds questioning what he was considering. He usually didn't pry. That was House's job. If House was with him though, they would follow. He convinced himself his concern would justify his actions should he be caught. Wilson got out of the car and walked into the building only to notice there were only two tenants. An ob/gyn and a marital arts studio. The educated guess was that Chase didn't need an ob/gyn.

The studio could be seen easily through the hallway by a large window wall. It contained a large open room where a few people in a variety of ages were warming up for their turn with the instructors. He scanned the room looking for Chase and didn't see him. Maybe Chase was seeing an ob/gyn. As he was about to give up, he saw Chase emerge from the locker room, all dressed and prepared for his session. He was a bit thrown back to see him in all white complete with protective padding. The helmet strap mostly covered the fresh bruise he was now sporting on his jaw.

Wilson hid around the corner so he could watch and not be seen. Chase would have to look very hard to spot him, and judging by his distracted demeanor that was not likely.

Chase had the same intense look of ire in his eyes and face that he had when talking with Wilson earlier. He had seemed pretty edgy the last few days anyway judging from all his sarcastic comments. The gossipy nurses were all taken back to hear such things from the usually quiet doctor. They didn't doubt he thought those things, but he never said them. The punch had to deliver him to a boiling point overtop the steam that had already been rising.

Chase took his place over at a preparation mat where others were getting ready through meditation. He sat down, took a cross legged position and tried desperately to turn his mind off to the world and focus. Every thirty seconds or so he would shake his head and try again. After five minutes he was never able to properly focus, all while the internal blaze continued to fan further. Wilson saw it in the short breaths, the scowling face and the clenched fists. His face told the story every time he broke concentration. Wilson imagined Chase's thoughts were likely fixed instead on all his past disappointments.

He could easily tell what was happening to Chase. Being successful at meditation meant achieving a successful peace of mind. Such success hinged on self control and it was apparent Chase had none. Wilson went through in his mind the four types of rage; survival, impotent, attachment, and shame. Chase had probably been fighting three of those his entire life. Today, they all likely emerged into one large storm just from House's punch. He had seen people kill or maim with lesser types of rage.

A different instructor than the ones working with the others came over to Chase gesturing that it was his turn. This man was wearing a black belt with gold stripes. Wilson knew the man was a master. Chase had a much lower ranking judging by the pale color of his belt. What was he doing getting in the ring with someone so skilled? Was taking a beating the only way he would deal with such issues?

The two retreated to a different mat in the far corner of the studio. Wilson felt comfortable moving closer since he would now be harder to spot. The two sparring men bowed out of complete respect, thus signaling the beginning of their match. As soon as the master slightly flinched, Wilson witnessed something he never expected to see. Chase instantly lunged forward with a furious combination of punches and kicks while the master threw up his arms and legs in pure defense. The look on the master's face seemed surprised that such an attack came so quickly, but he was prepared nonetheless. Something about the way they moved back and forth told Wilson that they had done this many times before.

Wilson's eyebrows raised in amusement at first as he thought he was watching a Jackie Chan film. Where the hell did Chase learn to fight like that? Why wasn't he a black belt? His skill easily matched his counterpart. Every motion and delivery from Chase was fraught with violent intensity. He looked completely possessed and had an attack instinct that was close to primal. Wilson had seen that behavior in both trauma patients and violent criminals. Chase looked like his mind was completely disconnected with his body. Adrenaline was the only thing doing the work.

The bell rang, but Chase didn't stop. It took several attempts from the master to get him to snap out of it, but he eventually did get his attention and Chase stopped. Wilson could see through the glass that the master asked if he was okay. Chase didn't respond and only stared forward with burning eyes.

They took a couple of minutes rest and went again. As before, Chase didn't hold back and even worked in a few new spins and moves. He surprised the master with a spinning kick that knocked him to the ground. The master got up slowly, hoping that would give his opponent time to gain composure. That didn't seem to happen as Chase once again moved at his frenzied pace.

The second bell rang and Chase again wouldn't stop. This time, the master spun around and delivered a kicking strike to Chase's midsection knocking him flat on his back. That motion got Chase's attention, but didn't seem to soothe any of the turbulent emotion that was still in its incensed release. He laid on the ground taking in short and sharp breaths while his jaw was clenched and teeth gritted. He spent the entire break eyeing the man who was about to pay for his knock down blow.

Chase was still fuming when the person in charge of the bell looked at the master with hesitation before proceeding, ringing it only after she got the assuring nod. Chase slowly got up and yet again burst into a furious combination, but the master starting retaliating with his own moves as well. Chase wouldn't back down from his aggression and any thoughts of defense by the master were gone. Now this fight was about control.

Wilson was wrong before. This was the true Jackie Chan moment. The two were going at such a dizzying rate and moving across the floor so fast that the occupants of the entire studio stopped what they were doing and came over to watch. Every face in the room seemed more shocked by such an infuriated display of skill and survival than thrilled. Both men were clearly capable of seriously harming the other and could do so in a snap. Everyone held their breaths realizing the outcome for one of them might not be pretty.

The two went long beyond the time allowed and the intensity of the action didn't quell. Finally, one of the instructors got a little too worried and rang the bell again. Chase didn't back off as many of his kicks and punches were now delivered by yells and grunts. The master knew he had to stop him somehow and didn't let up either. The other instructor jumped in behind and Chase first tried to fight the two men. He was quickly brought back to reality when he was distracted by the other instructor with a punch from behind. He turned around to counter and the master dropped kicked him with a direct blow to the shoulder. Chase fell violently forward and hit his head hard as he landed the padded mat.

A stunned Chase lay on the mat, still disoriented, but no longer mad with rage. If anything, his expression was now one of shame. For a minute he was motionless except for his blinking eyes, which were trying to gain orientation. They rolled him over and starting asking simple questions. Chase was unable to respond even though he was staring right at them like he understood what was being said. Wilson by this time had stepped into the studio and heard the other instructor ask, "Should we get him medical attention?" While the master replied to give Chase another minute, Wilson didn't want to take any chances. The situation could be very serious here.

Wilson burst onto the mat. "My name is Dr. James Wilson. I work with him. I can help." Wilson knelt down and looked at Chase, whose confusion was even greater now that Wilson was there. Wilson removed the padded helmet and started to check Chase's eyes as the master stared at the bruise on the jaw line. "Was he in a fight?" he asked with deep concern. Now he understood what set his student off. "He didn't fight back, did he?"

"No, he didn't. His boss hit him hard after a disagreement over a case." Wilson ran a finger in front of Chase's eyes to make sure he wasn't suffering from a head injury. When he was able to follow the finger without problems, Wilson had the men help Chase up to his feet. He swayed for a few seconds then gained his footing. "Chase, can you come with me to the locker room?" Chase nodded and even though he was still in a daze he silently followed Wilson and the master into the locker room.

Wilson pulled back into his psych training as a still stunned Chase sat down on the bench. "Breathe, deep breaths. As you breathe in, remember that you are only experiencing feelings. You don't need to act out anymore."

"Robert, find your inner peace. Channel your energy." The master added.

Chase started taking in deep breaths and slowly began to regain some of his control. Each calming word uttered by Wilson and the master brought him back to reality. "Good Chase, just relax."

Wilson took the master aside, grabbing his temples with his left hand in the process. He was still having a hard time grasping what was going on here. "Is he always like this?"

"No," replied the master as his eyes were still fixed on Chase. "If he was punched by someone he respected though that would set him off. If he had fought back, the consequences would have been dire."

"Yeah, I just noticed that. You don't think he's dangerous?"

"No. As long as he only deals with me, he's fine. I'm the only one allowed to spar with him. His skill level is too great and his rage runs deep at times."

Wilson nodded. He had to admit, Chase had the self control to come here immediately. "Thank you. I can handle it from here."

The master took one more long look at Chase to see if there was anything more he could do. He seemed satisfied and turned to leave. "Same time next week Robert?" Chase nodded and the master patted him on the shoulder before he left.

Wilson walked over to Chase and sat down next to him. Chase was now thinking clearly enough to ask the obvious question. "Why are you here Dr. Wilson? How did you find me?"

"I have to confess. I saw you walk in here rather furious while I was driving by. I was concerned."

"Am I that dangerous looking?"

"I was worried after our talk. I had never seen such anger in your eyes before. You were quivering from the ire."

Chase lowered his head while maintaining his calming breaths. "No one ever noticed before."

The two men sat together trying to maintain composure while mulling over in both their heads the undeniable impact of the day's events.

"I don't remember what I was doing." Chase confessed.

"That makes sense. You were in a fit of rage."

"It was like I was watching something from a distance within my own body and helpless to stop it."

"Does this happen often?"

Chase shook his head.

Wilson smiled. "Well, your subconscious can kick some major ass."

Chase finally let himself slip a small smile. "I've been training for years. I should be able to kick ass."

Wilson got up. "Why don't you get dressed? Do you need a ride back to the hospital?"

"No, I walked from home today. It's not too far from here."

"I'll give you a ride home. I insist. You are probably exhausted after all that."

"Yeah, I have to admit, I'm feeling pretty shaky. Thanks."

"I'll be outside waiting." Wilson left Chase alone on the bench, who was by now too physically and emotionally drained to move quickly.

-----------------------

As Wilson pulled up to Chase's apartment complex, he stopped to let him know that something was still troubling his mind.

"Chase, you'll probably be surprised that I know a bit about Taekwando. It is an art that is required to teach physical and mental discipline. You need to be using the art to channel your rage, not release it."

"Most of the time I'm able to do that."

"According to the master, who judging by his stripes is a 4th dan, he is the only one you are allowed to fight. You are too skilled to be hiding behind a yellow belt. You need to channel all your positive and negative energy and elevate yourself to the level of your true skill. You aren't doing this sport or yourself any justice by doing otherwise. You could easily be a 4th dan."

"I'm only exceptional at it when I'm fired up in a rage."

"You aren't allowed to be like that in this sport, or with anything in that matter. Rage is very bad and very damaging. It would be my guess that you got into this sport because you had anger issues. If you truly learned the mental and spiritual discipline, you would avoid what happened today."

"The master thinks I'm doing okay."

"The master doesn't work with you everyday and wonder what will happen next time you don't make it to the studio in time. Face it, you are very dangerous and none of us would be able to stop you."

Chase nodded. Wilson was dead on. He even scared himself today. "Okay, I'll think about it some more. The master and I can have a talk about it next time."

"You need to talk to him soon. There are daily exercises for this sort of thing."

"Dr. Wilson…"

"Chase, I'm trying to be nice about this."

Chase relented. "Okay, I'll call him tomorrow." He then opened the car door. "Thanks for the lift."

"Have a good evening. Try to relax."

"I will."

Wilson watched Chase walk off and felt somewhat relieved that he could finally take his mind off of the young man. Now it was time to go home and fret about House.

**a/n: I really have no intention of expanding this story unless circumstances arise to permit it. Anyway, I hope this was a scenario worth a read. As always, thanks for reading. **


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: There was demand, and I relented. I'm going on with the story. This chapter turned out way different than I expected. Hopefully the different pacing of this chapter works for everyone. It takes places at the beginning of "Merry Little Christmas." **

Chase wasn't sure why he let House off the hook with an "I'm fine", but he did and that was apparently permission for House to go back to his taunting mode. He as usual didn't let on that anything was wrong, but it was early in the day and the anger was already welling up inside him. Actually, the anger never went away from the day before. He still hadn't figured out a way to get it out of him. He felt like a pot that was simmering and ready to boil over again sometime soon.

What made it worse were Foreman and Cameron. There were no words of concern or allegiance regarding the injury he received. It was if it they believed it was his fault that he got decked despite the fact he saved Alice. He was instantly back to being stupid and lazy Chase. No one even acknowledged his catch, let alone appreciated him for it. No one that is except for the girl's parents. They were so grateful over the final diagnosis being found in time despite the life changes that were in store for them and their daughter.

There was only one person he knew that could try to talk him down right now.

"Come on in Chase." Wilson said motioning him into his office. He immediately noticed the fuming in Chase's eyes and the frown on his face. "I see you are having some issues this morning."

"It's like it was my fault. All I did was save a little girl. All I did was my job and I'm back to being a worthless idiot."

"What did House say to you?"

"Nothing really except the usual insults. Same old House as though nothing happened. The looks Foreman and Cameron were throwing was pretty telling though."

Wilson got up from his chair behind his desk and moved closer to Chase. He took a new spot at the edge of the desk, looking downward to the sitting Chase. "You know there is an intense rivalry between you three. There has always been a professional jealously when it comes to your cases. It's only bothering you right now because you are still angry. You have to let go."

Chase nodded. "Yes, I know. I think I just needed someone to tell me that."

"Did you call the master?"

"Yes, I'm going to start training this evening. I'm starting at square one because of my lack of discipline. I'll probably be going there five to six days a week for a little while, schedule permitting." Chase was shaking his right hand and couldn't keep his leg still. He was obviously still very jittery. Talk of training made him more nervous.

Wilson could tell that it was going to take a little more than his conventional wisdom to calm Chase's mind. "Chase, I want you to see a friend of mine. I'll call her to see if you can get in today. She specializes in spiritual based counseling. She can help you through meditation to get your mind straight. I'll work it with House or Cuddy that you can take a couple of hours without giving anything away."

"Thanks, but that's really not necessary."

"Oh, I'm going to have to insist. You are on a borderline rage and capable of causing some serious harm. This is for all our sakes, not just yours."

"I can just take an hour and do some meditation on my own."

"You couldn't focus yesterday and you aren't looking any better today. She will be there to help you, to be a guiding voice. Don't worry this will only be between you, me and her."

Chase was rather reluctant, but he knew Wilson could force the issue if he had to. He really didn't want to put Wilson in that position since Wilson had enough to deal with regarding House. Chase also didn't want anyone else at the hospital to find out his issues. "Okay, I'll go."

"Good. I'll let you know what time. She isn't far from here. It won't take too much of your time. The results will be far worth the inconvenience."

Chase nodded and went back to work on their patient. He knew he was in for a long day.

----------------------------

"Please, take a seat Robert."

The room's décor was somewhat expected for a spiritual healer. Eastern influenced wood furniture in dark colors, warm earth tone colors on the walls, two oversized comfy chairs for talking and an area in the corner where the floor was covered with pillows. There was a tabletop water fountain running next to them in the seating area and lush plants were everywhere. It was all designed to create an environment of serenity and comfort.

"You can call me Melissa. I believe in being on a first name basis here."

"Okay, Melissa."

"James tells me that you are struggling with rage. That's pretty dangerous stuff. I'll usually work in rage cases as a top priority. Let me guess. People at work probably see you as docile and laid back. Probably to the point where they mistake it for laziness or lack of ambition."

"How much did Dr. Wilson tell you about me?"

"One line, you are struggling with rage right now. It's a known fact that rage usually lies within the low key and quiet person. The type of person that bottles it all up inside. I just get that vibe with you."

Chase only looked down into his lap and didn't offer any kind of response. His uncomfortable feeling was now channeling some resentment Wilson's way.

"Okay, your silence indicates I'm striking a nerve maybe too bluntly. That is my style and I find it works best for those who are not forthcoming with their feelings. Judging by the rather swollen looking mark on your face, I'm assuming someone has set you off."

Chase nodded.

"In order to address the rage, we need to identify the trigger. I guess you probably have multiple triggers, but today we need to identify the one that is consuming you right now. We can then work on reconciling that one incident."

"There was nothing specific that set me off. I just got mad."

"How did you get mad? Did you fight back?"

Chase shook his head.

"No, I bet you didn't. Let me guess, you flew off the handle later after swallowing the anger for a while."

Chase again silently nodded, all while looking down with a brooding glare.

"Did you hurt anyone?"

"No. Luckily I took it out on the master who is trained to handle it."

"The master? Karate? Judo?"

"Taekwondo."

Melissa smiled as she pictured her new client, this quiet and cute average sized blond doctor, try to kick the living crap out of a professional martial artist. "Ah, that's good. I can see why you are here then. If you are using that to expel rage, then your mental conditioning is not working."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Chase wasn't sure why she was stating the obvious. Sure, she was trying to get a background, but she seemed too aware of the situation already to bother herself with such small details.

"So, back to that trigger point. Who hit you?"

"My boss."

"Why?"

Chase buried his face in his right hand, trying to figure out the best way to explain House. "It's a complicated situation. He has been going through vicodin withdrawal and doesn't have control of his actions."

"Sounds like you are making excuses for him. Is there anyone else you have had to make such excuses for? Maybe someone in your past?"

Chase didn't respond.

"Robert, I really don't want to throw guesses at you until I get a reaction. It's best for both of us if you just tell me."

Chase took in a deep breath. She was going into territory he didn't like to discuss much. "My mother."

"Was she a drug addict?"

"An alcoholic."

Melissa saw exactly where this was going. "Did she ever hit you?"

"All the time."

"Yes, but I don't think that's what set you off. There has to be a particular incident with her that made you angry and your boss triggered it."

"I can't think of any such incident."

This time she only glared at Chase, communicating through the icy stare that he couldn't fool her or put her off with his evasive answers.

"I was trying to get her to listen to me."

"About what?"

"She was drunk as a skunk and it was only noon. She told me to get into the car because we were going shopping. I was trying to tell her she would kill us both if she got behind the wheel."

He paused and she continued to stay silent, waiting patiently for him to finish the story. He quickly figured out he was expected to recount the story to completion.

"I refused to get into the car, and grabbed her by the shoulders so she wouldn't go. I kept telling her it was for her own good. She started screaming at me, telling me to get out of her way."

He stopped to take a deep stuttered breath and to gain his composure. He had long forgotten this incident and didn't really want to go through it again.

"Take you time Robert, but you need to finish." Melissa remained firm and unwavering. She knew he didn't want sympathy or pity. He needed strength.

"She reached into her purse, grabbed her flask and belted me in the jaw with it. Then she got into the car and left me there reeling in pain on the floor. She never apologized or tried to make amends. I was so mad I was wishing she would crash into a tree. She didn't come back until at least after I went to bed; maybe she was out all night. I didn't know nor did I care. The next day she asked where the bruise came from. She didn't remember doing it, so I told her I was hit by a soccer ball."

"What specifically makes you angry about that incident, other than the physical pain?"

Chase shrugged.

"Dig deep Robert."

He spent a minute thinking about it. "I resented her for being such an irresponsible drunk that she wasn't aware she was harming her own son."

"So, when your boss hit you, was he being irresponsible?"

"I suppose so."

"Robert..." Her tone scolded his vague response.

"Yes."

"Were trying to stop him from doing something that was wrong?"

Chase nodded.

"He probably didn't apologize or give you any credit for your act."

"No."

"Did anything good come from it?"

"I prevented a little girl from getting a double amputation."

"Ah, then there is a plus to this. You see, getting to the bottom of this wasn't so hard. Your negative feelings from before may have surfaced, but this is not the same situation. You had good intentions with your mother, but this time your actions made a difference. You now have redemption."

"I don't feel redeemed."

"That's where I come in. We are going to meditate, and you are going to focus on all the good things to come out of this. Now we can get to the spiritual healing part. Let's get comfortable."

She went over to the pillows on the floor and Chase followed still somewhat apprehensive. Sure he meditates at the studio, but he found this environment to be too unfamiliar and intimidating. They both sat cross-legged on the pillows ready to begin the exercise.

"No incense please. The stuff makes me gag." Chase bluntly instructed.

Melissa put the lighter down. "Very well. It seems we have an issue for another time. First, let's take several deep breaths."

They both let their chests expand in unison, and then deflate. Melissa led the tempo as they repeated the process a few more times.

"Now, sit up straight and close your eyes. Think about the little girl you saved. Think about her now living a normal life."

Chase tried, but then quickly shrugged it off. "She's allergic to light. She won't have a normal life."

"Okay, then think about how she will adjust to her new life with full use of her arms and legs. We only want to see the positive here. Close your eyes, breathe in and think positive."

Chase did so and after a minute, Melissa could tell he was more relaxed. "Good, now turn off your mind while the positive feelings are still inside. Feel the energy."

Chase did so and it wasn't before long that every bit of his posture indicated he was in a peaceful state. She let fifteen full minutes pass before interrupting his serene calm. "Look at me Robert."

He opened his eyes and met hers. She gazed at his face intently and gave him a big smile when she saw and felt the tranquility and composure. "Good." She got up, went to the desk and opened her appointment book. "Same time next week?"

Chase instantly started running through excuses in his mind. "Uh..."

"Sorry Robert, but your issues are many and lie deep. The one demon we exercised today isn't a long-term fix. You need to come back."

Chase lowered his head where he was still sitting comfortably on the pillows. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, not really."

Chase relented. "Early mornings work best."

Melissa gave him a firm nod. "I can arrange that." She handed him the card with the time for the next appointment. "You must come in next week with a positive feeling on each of your co-workers. That includes your boss. Have a good week Robert."

He nodded, got up and obeyed his dismissal. As he stood outside to door to the office, he had to admit, despite being backed into this corner against his will, he felt the best he had in a long time. The sick inside feeling that had dominated him over the last few days was now gone. He could actually go back to work without wanting to kill someone. Too bad, because House had it coming.

------------------------------------

"You are going to be joining my black belt class today." The master informed Chase. "We start in fifteen minutes. You can warm up with the others."

Chase needed a good warm up. He felt completely stiff and sore from yesterday. The daily regimen from a physical standpoint was going to take some getting used to. It usually took him a couple of days to get over the soreness.

Today the warm-up felt exhilarating. Usually by this time he was starting to simmer as all his frustrations got ready for release. Today he didn't have a worry in the world and instead felt the physical energy build around him.

Before he knew it, warm-up was over and everyone gathered in a row for the class. There were about twelve of them both men and women ranging from older teenagers to middle age. Everyone raised his or her right arm when asked to take the vow. "I shall have an indomitable spirit." Chase remembered doing a similar vow when he first started learning. He tried to remember when that stopped being part of his routine. Probably about the same time he started losing his mental discipline.

The entire class took their positions for the poomsae. When done in unison by twelve people, the steps and patterns made for graceful choreography and a stirring visual display. The entire class glided across the mat as though they were skating while the weight of each block, punch and kick sparked the intensity already rising in the room. The master stood at the front, directing every moment with composed authority. This basic exercise surprised Chase as it gave him the huge mystical lift that had so been missing from his previous outings.

Next was the ki-hop where everyone released into the previously quiet dojang a yell with focused energy from deep within. Chase was rather thrown back that this time his yell was backed by excitement and not angst. That was a definite first for him.

After the ki-hop they broke into groups of two for sparring. Chase wasn't sure about sparring with someone other than the master, but the master assured him the person he was paired with was quick and had good reflexes. The other man was shorter with a similar build but younger, thus his reflexes were likely quicker.

They both delivered a bow of respect and waited for the signal to begin. They spent the first several seconds circling the mat to size up each other. Chase started with a basic roundhouse kick in which the other man deftly avoided. They jumped into a faster pace, moving forward then backward, throwing kicks and punches while both did a respectable job of avoiding blows and using blocks when necessary. Chase delivered a spinning hook kick with perfect agility and balance that struck a staggering blow. The other man countered with a side kick of his own that struck Chase in the mid section padding. He stumbled back for a step or two and as he went to deliver another strike the round ended.

Chase during the one minute rest thought about coming back out with full force like he always did, but he wasn't familiar with this sparring partner yet and the energy filling him right now wasn't one of retaliation. He was there for fine-tuning of skills and wanted nothing more than to deliver well executed moves. It was rather liberating to not to want to fight for anxious release.

The next round was loaded of clear focus of energy and spirit for Chase. The moves and techniques he delivered were still powerful and highly effective, but they were delivered with far better form and accuracy. Chase even noticed out of the corner of his eye the master smiling over the restraint and control of his actions. His opponent kept up very well though and by the third round fatigue set in for Chase. In that round he quickly learned a weakness that he would need to work on. He would have to be faster and more alert when avoiding punches and kicks because he took several hits. He was pleased though that his response to such an offensive did not involve coming back in a fury. He was also glad that the third round in this setting only lasted two minutes.

After the class Chase sat in the locker room feeling the discomfort from every muscle in his body. He was flying high mentally and spiritually which easily trumped his exhausted physical state. It had indeed been a while since he felt this way and never since he moved to the states.

"You and I have some moves to work on Robert." Chase looked up to see the master standing over him with arms folded.

Chase nodded in agreement.

"Whatever you did for your mind today, keep doing it. The rest will be easy. See you tomorrow Robert."

Chase smiled as the master gave him a pat on the shoulder while he was leaving. Of course that smile was short lived as he grabbed the aching shoulder muscle and winced. This training was going to take a while.

**a/n: The next chapter everyone finds out! It will take place around the Words and Deeds time frame. After that, I really have no idea where I'm going to go with this, but I'm sure I'll come up with something. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: I'm coming off of nine straight days of intense writer's block. I finally had inspiration to write this afternoon. I hope this works for everyone!**

"Good morning, I'm Dr. Cameron. What seems to be the problem?"

A large, well built, yet very unhinged young man sat on the table in exam room three in the clinic. His body posture told the story of his discomfort as his legs constantly tapped against the table unable to stay still and the tremors dominating his hands and shoulders were somewhat unsettling for even a trained doctor. "I'm not feeling good," he muttered.

"Care to be more specific?" Cameron asked as she put her stethoscope up to her ears and started listening to the erratic heartbeat.

"I feel like hell. I need something to make me feel better." His voice was terse and demanding, echoing both and anxious mind and spirit that could potentially bring trouble. Whatever the slight warning signs though, Cameron continued on.

"Are you going through some type of withdrawal?" She knew the signs of heroin withdrawal. Those cases were somewhat common in the clinic. She also knew there wasn't much she could offer to make him feel much better.

The man rose up abruptly, easily towering over her. "No more questions, get me something now!"

Chase and Foreman were standing in the clinic hallway and heard the loud words coming from the exam room. "Who's in there?" Chase asked Brenda.

"Dr. Cameron and a patient." Just as she finished her answer, a large crash came from the room, followed by a yell. "Let go of me!" screamed the female voice. Foreman led the charge into the room. "Call security." Chase told Brenda while following Foreman's lead.

They opened the door to find the rather large man holding Cameron's wrist in a tight grip that she couldn't wrestle from. He flung around when he heard the door open and pulled Cameron closer. "Come on, I dare you. You know I can snap her like a twig."

"We don't want any trouble," Foreman told him. "Let her go and we can get you what you want."

"Like hell you will." His attention turned to Chase. "You, the pretty one, tell them out there everything is okay, then shut the door. You two are staying here for a while."

"It's all under control here." Chase shouted out to the lobby and then closed the door behind him. The deranged patient pointed across the room. "Okay, both of you over there so you don't cause any trouble." Chase and Foreman carefully moved over to the opposite corner as instructed, farthest away from the door.

"What do you think is going to happen here?" Foreman asked.

"I'm getting morphine, and then I'm getting out of here. I don't let the lady doctor go until I'm well clear of the hospital."

"You know we can't allow that." Foreman replied with tough defiance.

He gripped Cameron tighter, this time grabbing her by the neck. "Then things aren't looking too good for her."

Cameron didn't dare move, looking pale and white, wondering what he would do to her if he took her with him. Her eyes pleaded desperately for Chase and Foreman to save her.

"The morphine is locked up and you know it." Chase told him.

"Yes, that's why the dark one over there is going to get me all your vials and I'll be on my way. Any type of tip off won't be pretty for her." Chase and Foreman watched in horror as he grabbed Cameron's throat to the point of choking her. They knew a sudden move could result in him breaking her neck, so they had to hold back. After several seconds, he let go leaving her gasping for breath. His other hand still tightly clenched her wrist to the point where her hand was turning slightly blue. The twisted look on the man's face indicated he was enjoying each second of the torture he inflicted too immensely.

"Now go and no sudden moves." He ordered. Foreman slowly made his way to the door, inflicting the evil eye all along the way. The man wickedly smiled and grabbed Cameron's throat harder. Foreman slipped out without commotion and silently clicked the door shut.

The man's attention again turned to Chase, although his new interest in the blond doctor became somewhat disturbing. "I never thought he would leave us alone. You know, I actually think you are prettier. You are more my type. I might take you both." Chase glared back at him with defiant disgust.

Chase's contempt actually egged the guy on. "I like it when they struggle," he said as he let go of Cameron's throat while still tightly holding onto her wrist. She winced in pain indicating that by now his grip had caused injury. He pulled Cameron along and worked his way in Chase's direction. As he got somewhat close he moved his freehand outward and pushed it in the direction of Chase's throat.

Chase reacted with complete instinct and threw up a block that batted his hand away. A split second later he delivered a side kick directly to the man's shoulder. The blow staggered the man backward a few steps and stunned him enough to loosen Cameron's grip. She pulled free just as the man lunged forward in a violent rage toward Chase. Chase spun around with perfect balance and delivered the next kick to the man's head. He fell to the ground.

A stunned Foreman stood in the open doorway as Cameron ran to him in solace. He came in just in time to see Chase deliver the split second incapacitating blows. Chase frantically dropped to the floor to examine the man's condition. "Get us some help," he instructed Foreman. "We need to get him to the ER. I think I gave him a concussion."

Foreman nodded and went for help. Cameron was still too shaken and couldn't move from her spot. She watched Chase examine the man further and tried to comprehend why there was a guilty look on his face. "Are you okay?" Chase asked her after he noticed her stunned demeanor.

"He hurt my wrist, other than that I'm fine. Where did you...?" She was interrupted by a medical response team, security, and Cuddy.

Within minutes the team loaded the man onto the gurney and Chase tried to follow them to the ER. "No," Cuddy said stopping him, "they have it under control. I'll check out Cameron right here while you three tell me what happened."

Chase reluctantly nodded and humbly worked his way over to a quiet corner of the room. This was going to take some explaining.

------------------------------------

"Tell them I'm dead. It's really not that far from the truth."

House was informed that two of his doctors were there to see him, so he needed to get to the visitor's lounge. He was less than pleased since he was engrossed in a reality show where a woman had to pick a man to be with a la the bachelor, but the twist is the man could turn out to be gay or straight. It was up to her to tell the difference. House had already figured out all the men left were gay and was eager to see her humiliated reaction.

The lounge area was strangely empty except for House and the goon that was supposed to watch him. Sure the goon was on the take and could have given him privacy, but he did have to keep up appearances. "Feel free to take notes as you listen in. Important doctor stuff. You might learn something." The attendant just scoffed.

House was completely indifferent as Cameron and Foreman entered with long faces and worried eyes. House wasn't really in the mood to hear all about the latest ordeal, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. Cameron's right arm was bandaged from the elbow to the hand, but he chose to ignore that.

House watched them as they sat down, went to say something, then shrugged it off. He sat there patiently for another minute waiting for someone to get started, but it was apparent that his doctors didn't know where to start. "Okay, I give. What happened? Hurry up though. It may look like I have all day, but circle time begins in a few minutes."

Cameron and Foreman looked at each other, and then decided amongst themselves that Foreman would do the talking. "A drugged out patient went crazy in the clinic. He demanded morphine. He attacked Cameron and went for Chase until…" Foreman stopped there. He really didn't know how to explain it.

"Yes, until what? Has no one gotten our little fraidy doctor to come out of hiding yet?"

"He's with Cuddy right now." Cameron told him.

House rubbed his eyes and chin with his right hand, not sure if he really wanted to know what was happening. "What sort of trouble do I have to bail the dumb blond out of now?"

"Oh, I don't think you'll have to get him out of trouble anymore. As a matter of fact, you might want to be very careful about how you treat him from now on." Foreman wished House could have seen Chase in action firsthand. He would of loved to see House turn all white.

"Would you stop it with the beating around the bush and just tell me what the hell happened?" House had enough.

"When the patient went after Chase he went all Bruce Lee on the guy and ended up breaking the guy's collarbone and giving him a concussion. This dude was huge, the size of an NFL lineman. Chase had him down after three quick strikes." Foreman explained.

House's eyes opened real wide and then he started laughing. "It's not cool to pull jokes on someone in rehab. It doesn't help with the lack of trust issues."

Cameron continued. "We're serious. He's in Cuddy's office right now trying to explain to legal how a doctor in this hospital managed to injure someone so badly. He can really do some serious damage if he wanted to, but he saved us."

"How did he do that? You're injured."

"I could be dead."

"Drama queen." House turned to the entrance of the lounge. "Yo, Wilson, get over here and listen to the fish tale these two are trying to tell me. It's a good one, too bad I don't believe any of it."

Wilson figured this would be the first place Cameron and Wilson would go. "It's true. I've seen him in action firsthand."

All three were thrown back by his confession. "When did you see him? You knew he was a lethal weapon and didn't tell any of us?" Foreman asked.

"He took up Taekwondo a long time ago. It helps him deal with stress. Lord knows where he could possibly get any here."

House laughed even harder now. "Very funny everyone. You got me good. Now where is Chase, really?"

They all glared at him with firm eyes, giving fierce indication that they were on the level.

After fixing his blue eyes on the three faces focused on him, House's expression changed to one of amused surprise. "You aren't kidding me. Chase? He could have kicked my ass this entire time and chose not to? I'm not sure whether to be thankful or overly worried over his love of punishment. How good is he?"

"I saw him spar with a 4th level black belt master. It took the master and another instructor to take him down. He's that good."

"Chase is a Taekwondo black belt?" Cameron asked stunned.

"No, but he should be. He started training for the black belt exam a few weeks ago."

"Well I know who's got my back from now on. I always did like Chase." Foreman said as he got up. He was ready to get on with his day.

"We already know he's willing to rescue the damsel in distress," Cameron said following Foreman's lead. "I guess that just leaves you House. Go ahead, push him too far. I'd love to see what he does about it."

"Keep believing that," House jokingly warned. "Someday someone is going to push the wrong button and zap!, that person will be sucking meals through a straw and praying for death. We'll see who it is."

Cameron and Foreman smiled as they left. Wilson took his spot opposite House on the couch. "Actually, that breaking moment already happened. You were the one that pushed that button."

House knew exactly what Wilson was referring to. "When I hit him." Wilson nodded. "How did you find this out?"

"He came to see me afterward in the lounge. He was so blind with rage I thought he was going to go postal. I saw him after work and followed him into a martial arts studio. He apparently has been going there every week for a while to expel anger and frustration. When I saw him, his rage was so deep they had trouble stopping him."

"So my staff is now coming to you with issues."

"They needed to go somewhere. Their boss has really caused them a lot of professional and personal trauma. Actually, it's not all bad. Cameron and Foreman won't speak to me now because of the deal. Chase certainly doesn't bother me with high horses and double standards. It's a nice change."

House shook his head in amazement, wondering how his friend could be so gullible. "They're playing you because they can't stand to have their egos bruised."

"No, they needed some guidance because their medical careers were actually threatened and were subject to an intense criminal investigation, not to mention the now obvious threat of physical assault by their own boss. I still don't know why they haven't quit."

"They weren't the victims of an unnecessary vendetta."

"You ever realize that your misery becomes all our misery as well, whether we choose it or not? Tritter had them running scared House. You did nothing to stop it because it would mean you would lose your control. In the end, we all lost. You lost a lot of respect from them as well as many others. Don't be surprised if you never get that back."

"I don't need their respect."

"Then it's a win-win, because you aren't getting it." Wilson got up and left, leaving House to seriously contemplate how his actions may have ruined his once perfect team balance.

----------------

Cuddy shut the door and walked behind her desk before taking her authoritative stance in her seat. "I don't know how to begin how to address this."

Chase lowered his head and stayed silent. He knew what happened couldn't have been avoided, but he still questioned if he should have been so aggressive. For those few seconds he really didn't know what he was doing.

"From a personal perspective, you did a wonderful thing. Both you and Cameron could have been severely injured or worse. From an administrative perspective though, this is bad PR. Did you have to hurt him so badly?"

"That wasn't my intention," Chase replied with a tinge of regret. "It was a gut reaction."

"People just love stories about average people getting severely injured, even if it was justified in this case. How long have you been a black belt?"

"I'm not a black belt."

"According to Wilson, you should be."

Chase shamefully nodded. "I've been at this level for about five years now."

Cuddy shook her head. "Information that would have been good to know on your personnel file. I usually like to know when my doctors have the ability to kill with their bare hands."

"It's not relevant. This is the first time I've ever hurt anyone."

Cuddy couldn't argue with that point. "Okay, I'll agree, you certainly have never proved to be dangerous before. The police already have our statements and someone with legal will let me know what pending ramifications could result. You are free to go back to your duties now."

"Thank you Dr. Cuddy." Chase turned to leave.

"Oh and Chase," He turned around to see a grateful smile on Cuddy's face. "Thanks for diffusing the situation. It could have been tragic."

Chase nodded without reaction and left.

------------------

"You came with something to talk about." Melissa learned to read her client rather well after only a couple of visits.

Chase let out a pathetic sigh, wanting to talk about but still frazzled by the incident. "I hurt someone."

"Doctors make mistakes all the time Robert..."

"No, I mean through fighting. I had to take someone down at the hospital and I injured him."

"You wouldn't do that on purpose. Was there another way to diffuse the situation?"

"I don't know. I was using restraint when he was threatening a co-worker, but as soon as he became a serious threat I took him down."

Melissa smiled at his distress. "Hmm, do I sense the "g" word here?"

Chase's eyes got real wide. "Don't get started on guilt. I'm Catholic. That will never go away."

Melissa nodded in agreement. "Good point. Okay, we'll drop guilt then. However, it wouldn't hurt to talk about the fight. How badly did you hurt him?"

"A broken collarbone and a concussion. He'll be sidelined for a few days before they take him off to jail."

"I'm willing to bet you weren't in a rational thinking place when that happened. The real threat of the situation wouldn't possibly allow that. Did you rescue your co-worker from harm?"

"Serious harm, yes."

"Then that's good. It looks like we have our positive focus for today. You have made things easy for us. Ready to get started?"

They got settled on the pillows and Chase began to focus on the positive outcome of the standoff. Those warm feelings transcribed into something else though the longer he focused on them. He remembered the way he felt about Cameron when he first met her. How they actually were friendly and respected each other as colleagues. How they would have pleasant conversations and not snip at each other over simple disagreements. He fondly recalled when things were good between them, before than night in her apartment. He hoped that at least maybe he had earned a little of that respect back.

"Okay, now turn off your thoughts."

As Chase shut off his mind, his feelings continued to swirl with all those positive emotions toward Cameron. That wasn't such a bad place to be.

**a/n: Any comments good or bad are appreciated. I'm not certain if this lived up to my usual standards or not. I visualize only one more chapter with this story. Chase resolves his issues with House (yes House will see him in action). Thanks as always for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: Sorry, this update would have been sooner if there wasn't an impromptu Super Bowl party at my house this weekend. My house is trashed but empty of guests now, so I guess it isn't all bad. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys the final chapter. **

**--------------------------------------**

He couldn't shake the curiosity for the rest of his stint in rehab. The picture in his head wouldn't go away and needed to be dealt with. House mulled over his disturbing thoughts as he with usual flare barged into Wilson's office unannounced, not taking his friend all that much by surprise. Wilson knew he was getting out and anticipated this moment as inevitability. "I want to see."

"Rehab blinded you? I'm not that kind of healer." Wilson joked.

"Chase. I want to see him in action."

"He won't like you spying on him, and he sure won't forgive me."

"Who said anything about him finding out?"

"Please, you won't be able to keep that sharp tongue quiet."

"I promise to be good."

"Oh, that makes me feel better."

"Fine, I don't need your help. I'll just follow him after work."

"House," Wilson had to stop him. It was pointless resisting and Chase would be better off with both of them there. House was already halfway through the doorway, impatiently demanding with his intolerant eyes a response. "Fine, we can go tonight."

"Great." House completed his fast exit. Wilson wrestled with the idea about issuing some type of warning. Was that really needed? Chase knew his training was now common knowledge and House could follow him at anytime. Maybe House could put a lid on it and watch undetected. Who the hell was he kidding? He swiftly got up and went to find Chase.

------------------------------

"I have a special request." Chase asked the master as it was time to pair off for sparring.

The master nodded with curiosity. His student was never big on requests, so this one must be important.

"Lurking in the shadows over there, pretending not to be seen is my boss. He's obviously here against my wishes and just wants to spy on me. Is it okay if we give him a show?"

The master smiled. "That's the bastard that hit you, isn't it?"

Chase nodded.

"Yeah, he needs a good scare. I accept your challenge. Our usual tempo?"

"That would be great."

The two retreated to a remote corner of the mat. When they got in position, others gathered around knowing that this was going to be good.

House continued to stare inward with complete fascination. "So he's putting on a show for me." Wilson smiled. "You are in for a treat."

Chase and the master bowed in unison, then each took a deep breath of preparation just before the bell rang. The master instantly came out with a roundhouse kick as Chase deftly dodged out of the way. He delivered a punch/kick combination of his own that barely scraped the master as he moved. They both started delivering blows and blocks in rapid succession while each avoided the other with rapid maneuvering all over the mat. The choreography was eloquent, but contact was light and everyone expected that this was just a warm up for something greater. The bell rang signaling the end of round one.

"That was just pretty dancing." House told Wilson. Wilson smirked, knowing this was about to get better.

Chase and the master took their places after a one minute rest and gave each other a little smirk. Full contact, all-in sparring could now begin. Now they could start using more complex moves, sweeps, and patterns.

Chase delivered the first strike of a powerful side kick backing the master into a corner followed by a combination spinning axe kick which struck him squarely in the torso sending him back a few more steps. Without hesitation the master went into a forceful counterattack after rushing in and jamming Chase's next attack. Chase sidestepped the master with quick agility and prepared himself for another offensive. The two furiously delivered one swift combination after another of complex and artistic moves all while maintaining an even pace that allowed for little relief. Since Chase's training recently focused more on practicing patterns, they were now incorporating some of the pattern fighting techniques into their heavy contact sparring. They were also using hosinsul, which incorporated several self defense procedures. The end result was a session that was both exhilarating and highly dangerous. A crowd pleaser for sure.

"Holy shit!" House said as they neared the end of the second round. Wilson looked at him with a satisfied smile. "Now do you call that dancing?" House's wide eyes silently continued to take in the display of mastery before him. From that point forward, he was pretty quiet. Speechless in fact.

The third round kicked up the pace another notch, but now take downs, low kicks, and trips were permitted. House now watched with complete awe as he saw the fire and killer instinct within his young fellow's eyes. He knew a few things about the techniques of this sport and was blown away by how his young fellow was so well trained. The impressive footwork gave him extraordinary ability to lure and evade his opponent. The perfect form in his stances allowed control with kicks and balance, and his landings in proper position that gave him the ability to deliver swiftly more accurate and powerful kicks. Neither opponent showed any sign of relenting and came back each time with more power and fury in their impassioned delivery.

Chase was in such a rhythm and so into the moment that he wasn't sure how he ended up making such a careless mistake. He went to deliver a basic axe kick and in his fatigue failed to properly position his upper body. He wasn't able to push his hips outward which would have pushed his upper body away from the leg. Seeing the weak position the master delivered his swift kick to Chase's shoulder in retaliation. Chase fell straight to the mat and felt enough pain despite the padding where he couldn't continue. He raised his arm up indicating surrender.

Applause erupted in the room as the master helped him off the mat. Chase winced in pain over his left shoulder the entire way up. He could tell it wasn't broken, but suspected there could be a bone bruise. The master looked at him with concern. "I'm okay." Chase assured him.

The knock down was enough for Wilson and House to be near him almost immediately to check out his injury. He looked at them like he didn't need a doctor, but knew they would follow his lead to the locker room anyway.

"How bad does it hurt?" Wilson asked as he helped Chase gingerly remove the padding.

"Not too bad." Chase was lying, but he wasn't about to let on with House standing right there.

Wilson started touching the shoulder as Chase gasped in pain when he reached the contact point. "'Right, doesn't hurt. Come on, we are going back to the hospital for an x-ray to be sure."

While Wilson was playing his role of doctor, House stood against the wall being suspiciously quiet. Chase had no idea what to make of the silence. House's blank expression made it hard for him to tell if he was impressed, disappointed, or neither. He chose to pretend he wasn't there.

The master caught them as they were leaving. "Take a few days off Robert. Rest the shoulder."

"Thanks. I'll see you in a few days," Chase replied as he and his entourage headed for the exit.

The master stopped him from going forward and looked at him squarely. "It's time Robert."

Chase nodded with uncertainty, but gave him a look that he also understood. The master smiled and let him continue.

--------------------------

House and Chase were alone in the diagnostics conference room while Wilson waited in radiology for the x-rays. House finally decided to speak.

"I got to visit that actual Kukkiwon when my dad was stationed in South Korea. I don't remember ever being more impressed by a place."

Chase smiled at the thought of visiting there. "That must have been something."

"So, why aren't you a dan? You were just as good as the other guy and his he had all the pretty decorations on his belt."

Chase shrugged. "It never meant anything to me before. Gaining rank was never my goal."

"So why is it now?"

"My goals were wrong. I'm making them right. A black belt ranking isn't just about skill. It's about attitude. A dan is supposed to calm his temper, be an influence on others, and should be disciplined in the small areas of life as well as the large ones. I wasn't ready to do that until now."

House lowered his head onto the top of his cane in reflection of what he just heard. Chase was a bit puzzled, trying to figure out what in the world House could be struggling with. He only recognized such thought when they were working on a case.

"I'm sorry I hit you." House blurted out. His eyes were focused away from Chase when he delivered those words of apology. He eventually moved his gaze over when all he heard was stunned silence. Chase's head quickly moved downward when House made eye contact.

"Thanks." Chase replied in a soft voice.

The two waited in comfortable quiet until Wilson arrived. "Nothing's broken. There isn't any evidence of a bone bruise either. Just swelling and bruising of the surrounding tissues."

Chase stood up and put on his jacket gently. His shoulder was still in quite a bit of pain. "Great, I'm going home then."

"Before you go, what did 'it's time' mean?" Wilson was too curious not to ask.

"My preparation is done. Time to test."

Wilson gave him a pleased smile. "Good night Chase."

House stayed quiet as Chase headed out for the evening. Wilson took his place on the chair next to House, noticing his friend's curiously pensive mood. "You haven't said much. Are you ill, or could it actually be that he scared the crap out of you?"

House slightly laughed. "No, even though I was told to expect it, I still couldn't believe that. I just told Chase I saw the Kukkimon in Seoul. What I didn't tell him is for a little while I had the privilege to watch the best of the best from all around the world train. The amount of mental and physical discipline required to reach those heights was inspirational. I watched that day something glorified and above me. It was a humbling experience, and I wasn't humble even back then. I never felt that way again until this afternoon."

Wilson now offered his smile with his slight nod. "It's incredible how people you've known for a while can surprise you." Wilson was more referring to all that they had been through lately. The Tritter mess had certainly changed many notions about each other.

A capricious chuckle strangely emerged from House's quiet reflection. "He can really kick some serious ass, can't he?"

Wilson joined in the laughter. "Kind of unsettling, isn't it?"

"I could use this to my advantage. He could be my enforcer. Think I can get Chase take Foreman down for me whenever he deserves a smackdown?"

"The only person he would smackdown is you. You do have a way of pushing buttons."

"Me? I'm such a nice guy." House looked forward, having to really admire Chase's mental discipline. If he had those abilities, he would knock himself around.

"Beer?" House asked, ready to move on with his evening.

"Why, I'd thought you never ask."

------------------------

"Saturday is the day." Chase announced to Wilson. It had been two weeks since Chase had hurt his shoulder and he was finally back to training full strength.

Wilson assumed Chase could only be talking about one thing. "The black belt exam?"

"Yes."

"Is it open or closed?"

"Open. It's specifically for black belts. There won't be huge amount of people testing so an audience is encouraged."

Wilson wasn't afraid to push by this point. "Do you mind if I stop by?"

Chase was surprised by the question. "You want to see it? It's hardly exciting. It should be a slam dunk for me."

"Still, I'm interested. I've never seen such a thing."

"Sure, you're welcome to come." Chase turned around to leave, stopped himself, and turned back. "You can bring a friend if you want to."

Wilson laughed. "I'm not sure you want my friend there. He's a nuisance."

"It's your option. I can handle it either way."

"Fair enough. Either way, I'll be there." Wilson assured. Chase nodded in appreciation and headed on his way.

--------------------------------------

He'd been breaking boards without hesitation for years now. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous about it this time. Probably because if the boards didn't break then he wouldn't pass. This was the last element of the day and the only thing standing between him and his new rank. He couldn't think negatively. The purpose of breaking boards was to promote mental discipline. He was required to deliver a strike with pure accuracy, concentration of power, and strength of will. If he delivered those in any type of wrong way, he would likely have a broken hand or foot for his trouble. Actually, he could end up with those injuries anyway. When he did break a board though, it was a confidence builder.

_Punches fail with fear, speed not strength, _he told himself as two instructors held out three large wooden boards in front of him. He took in a deep breath of relaxation, and delivered a swift punch as his first two knuckles made perfect contact with the middle of the board. The boards split instantly before being knocked from the supporting hand of one of the instructors. Chase felt relief as he heard some applause over his successful motion. It was only a few minutes later when he started to feel the slight pain in his hand. That delay in pain showed how much his adrenalin was in full force. He wanted to get the punch out of the way first. He repeated the exercise this time using his most effective kick, the flying side kick. He hit the boards again dead on contact and broke them without trouble. Same for the spinning axe kick. The test was done and he was feeling confident.

The test was already going well that day. The judging panel was rather thrown back by the red belt with black stripe that he now wore. His skill level was too great for even the level of 1st dan that he was testing for. Sure, he was just above average on the poomsae. He knew these patterns for years and could do them in his sleep, but it was only in the last few months of training where he truly learned to perfect the elements of eye control, concentration of spirit, speed control, strength control, flexibility, balance, and variety in techniques. His self defense techniques though were superior, as was the one step sparring.

What really won him over with the judges though was the kyorugi. He easily out did his opponent on a number of complex elements. The judges didn't find out until afterward that Chase was the sparring partner for the master who was training for the 5th level dan. He was the only person skilled enough in the school to match the master at that level. Needless to say, his scoring in that element of the test was the highest of the day.

"Robert," the master said coming over to him after the kyorugi. "They have a special request. They want you to do the keum-gang."

Chase nodded, not sure what it meant that they wanted him to perform a pattern that was reserved for a 2nd level dan. He did as requested though and his performance met with approval.

One of the judges there was certainly highly regarded. He was a 9th level grandmaster dan that was there specifically to judge the master on his quest for the 5th level. The 9th level dan was the highest ranking anyone could achieve and many were in awe just by his presence. The many stripes on his belt added to that prestige. The test for 5th level dan wasn't really all that rigorous. Judging by the pleased look on the grandmaster's face, it looked like the master would easily attain his new ranking.

Chase and the master shared a respectful bow after Chase finished the last part of the test. "Well done Robert." Chase headed over to the viewing area to find his cheering section of two didn't look too bored. "Congratulations Chase." Wilson said. Chase waited patiently for the insult or snark to come from House. He wasn't disappointed. "You look like a girl in that thing." House said commenting on his attire. An insult was the best possible compliment to come from House.

"So when do you find out?" Wilson asked.

"In a couple of months. The application has to go through the Kukkiwon."

"Come on," Wilson motioned, "you've earned the privilege of a beer."

Chase slighted frowned. "Does he have to go?" House looked at him with mock offense.

"Yeah, I say the same thing every time. Be prepared to pay."

"Okay, I'll be ready in a few minutes."

-------------------------------------

Four months later Chase got a page to come to Wilson's office. He really wasn't in the mood. He had been pulling double shifts for the ICU the last few days and was exhausted. Still, Wilson usually had a reason. He was rather shocked to enter the office and see the master there standing next to Wilson.

"What's going on?" Chase asked as he looked at the two of them with skepticism. His thinking actually hadn't been too clear, otherwise he would have easily guessed. He still didn't have the results to his dan exam despite the fact that more than enough time had passed. He was assured by the master the application was probably lost and they would try again.

The master pulled out something from behind him. It was a long black belt with two gold stripes on it. "Congratulations, 2nd dan."

"2nd?" Chase wasn't sure how this was possible.

"The judges told me to submit a special request to the Kukkiwon for you to jump in rank. Unfortunately, such requests take a very long time. I'm sorry for my dishonesty. I knew specifically why your application was taking so long. Anyway, you hadn't been to class so I called Dr. Wilson to see if he could find you. I wanted you to have this just as soon as I got it."

Chase was at a loss for words to express his gratitude. After all, a jump in rank was a very high honor. It was one he didn't expect. "I'm not sure what to say."

The master bowed. "You shall have an indomitable spirit." Chase bowed back in respect. "Get back as soon as you can. Your title is now Assistant Instructor. We need to get you ready for your new role."

"I will. Thank you for bringing this here." The master gave him a look of pride as he brushed out of Wilson's office.

"May I?" Wilson asked reaching for the belt. Chase handed it to him. Wilson moved the thick material in between his thumb and finger. "Something tells me that you don't earn something like this when rage is in control."

"No, I guess not." Chase agreed.

Wilson handed him back the belt. "Good, now keep it that way."

"Don't worry. Worse thing that could happen is that House will finally get the beating he deserves. Other than that, I'm in control."

Wilson now bowed in respect. "Master."

Chase laughed. "That sounds good. You think I can get House to call me that?"

**a/n: I took my first Tae Kwon Do class this weekend! It was really fun. I would recommend it to anyone. Anyway, thanks for following this story. I appreciate all the comments received, well except the flamers. My flame proof suit is on and fully tested, so give me your best shot. **


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